


Terrible Taste

by jailikechai



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Student!Cas, Student!Dean, guilty pleasure confessions, just so much fluff, questionable fashion sense, questionable television choices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 05:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5323052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jailikechai/pseuds/jailikechai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean discovers that Castiel learned how to work the DVR on their new big-screen TV. Cas has questionable taste in TV. So does Dean. They're perfect for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrible Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Is there anyone out there that doesn't yell at the TV when watching 'Say Yes to the Dress'? Tell me it's not just me. 
> 
> Cross-posted to [Tumblr](http://jailikechai.tumblr.com/post/134286469846/so-remember-way-back-when-i-wrote-a-goodbye-kiss)

There is muffled shouting escaping from inside Castiel’s bedroom. Dean squints suspiciously through the crack in the door, the small opening allowing nothing more than a view Cas’ sock-covered feet on his rumpled bed. Dean taps on the door.

“Everything ok in there, Cas?” The door swings slightly open at Dean’s touch, revealing more of Cas, stretched out on his bed in his pajamas and clutching his TV remote, glaring at Dean with a wide, unblinking stare.

“Yes,” Cas growls, probably more fiercely than absolutely necessary, “I am fine.”

“Ok. I just thought I heard -”

“It was nothing.” Castiel’s eyes dart towards the tiny, ancient CRT TV in the corner of his bedroom before flicking back to Dean. “Probably just the TV.”

Dean casts a glance at the grainy screen, where a rerun of CSI: Miami is currently playing. He wrinkles his nose. “Right. Um. Sorry,” he apologizes, backing out of the room and leaving Cas to his crappy TV.

~~

A few days later, Dean’s morning class lets out early, and he’s standing in the hallway, fumbling with his keys when he hears Cas’ voice floating out of the apartment. He sounds angry. Dean bursts through the door, fists clenched, ready to throw down with whoever the hell could make Cas sound like that. Instead, Dean is greeted by the unlikely sight of Castiel, curled up on their threadbare plaid sofa, wrapped up in his bee-print snuggie, hurriedly changing the channel on the flat-screen TV in the living room.

“You’re home early,” Cas accuses, his eyes narrowing to slits. Dean frowns at the TV.

“Was that -”

“No.”

No one wearing a snuggie covered in cartoon bees should be capable of looking that intimidating. Dean wisely decides not to pursue the issue. He sighs and slings his backpack to the ground before plopping down on the couch next to Cas.

“Sweet,” Dean comments as the commercial that was playing switches over to Leia, Han, and Luke stuck in the trash compactor in A New Hope. Castiel rolls his eyes and slumps in his seat. They marathon Star Wars for the rest of the day.

~~

Dean can hear Castiel’s voice over the sound of the shower.

“Be right there, Cas,” he shouts around the thick vinyl of the shower curtain. He is still shirtless and scrubbing his hair dry with a towel when he walks into the kitchen.

Cas is dressed up in his suit and tie for his day at his internship, and sedately sipping a coffee from a mug. He frowns at Dean’s state of undress.

“What’d you need, Cas?” Dean asks.

“Nothing,” Castiel denies, and slurps his coffee.

“I heard you calling me from the shower,” Dean insists.

“I did no such thing.” Cas’ eyes dart away suspiciously. “Perhaps you should think about seeing a doctor to have your hearing checked.”

Dean is starting to agree.

~~

“So you’re coming, right?” Sam asks eagerly, turning on those big, pleading puppy dog eyes that make Dean melt faster than ice cream in July. Dean still hesitates.

“Why the hell do you want me there, anyway?”

“This is a big deal, Dean! Jess got into Stanford! That’s her top choice college, Dean,” Sam reminds him. Dean scrunches his nose and runs a hand through his hair.

“And your girlfriend’s entire family is going?”

“Well, her parents and her little sister. Mom and Dad are going, too. It’ll be weird if you’re not there.”

Dean casts a furtive glance at the TV. “C’mon, Sam, if it was you, you know I’d be there in a minute. I just don’t see why your girlfriend getting a college acceptance letter is such a big deal. Didn’t she already get into, like, five other schools?”

Sam glares at him, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. “So what? It’s Stanford. Come on, Dean, it’s just one dinner. Free food! What’s so important that you’re turning down free food?”

Dean’s eyes wander back towards the TV, and Sam follows his gaze.

“Really, Dean,” Sam sighs. “What is so important on TV?”

“Nothing!” Dean denies. Sam glowers, not fooled for an instant. Dean’s shoulders slump. “Ok, so maybe the season finale of Dr. Sexy might be on around that time.”

“Oh my god, how are you even my brother,” Sam groans, shaking his head. “Why don’t you just record it?”

Dean gives him a blank look, and Sam rolls his eyes. He fiddles with the TV remote. “C’mon, you and Cas splurge on all this over-the-top TV and stereo shit, and neither of you knows how to work it?”

“It wasn’t a splurge, it was on sale,” Dean grumbles, watching Sam flip deftly through the TV’s various menus at lightning speed and wondering if he should take notes.

“Dean, I thought you didn’t know how to work the DVR,” Sam accuses, as he squints at page after page of recorded shows.

“I don’t,” Dean admits.

“Then why are there about a hundred episodes of Say Yes to the Dress saved on your DVR?”

Dean peers around his giant of a little brother at the TV screen. He blinks at the words Say Yes to the Dress repeated over and over again.

“What the fuck.”

A grin creeps over Sam’s face as Dean stares, dumbfounded, at the TV.

“You mean that Cas learned how to use the DVR before you did?” Sam cackles.

“You mean that Cas has been using our kickass big screen TV to binge watch some fucking wedding dress show?” Dean is scandalized. He bought that TV so he could drool over Dr. Sexy’s abs in high-def, not watch some chicks try on dresses, goddamnit. Sam nearly falls over laughing. Dean scowls and pulls the remote out of Sam’s hand.

“Just show me how the damn TV works, bitch,” Dean demands.

“D’you think they’ll do a Say Yes to the Tux episode for when you and Cas get married?” Sam giggles, and Dean hits him over the head with the remote. Sam doesn’t stop laughing as he records Dean’s show for him.

~~

Castiel is dragged off by his brothers the same night that Dean begrudgingly attends Jess’ Stanford celebration, so he’s not home when Dean wearily sinks into the couch after a few hours of charming Mr. and Mrs. Moore and fending off the nagging of his own mom and dad. Dean follows the steps Sam showed him for how to access the DVR. He hovers over his recording of Dr. Sexy, before scrolling through Cas’ collection of wedding dress extravaganzas. Dean glances around to make sure the apartment is truly empty before pressing play on Say Yes to the Dress.

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Bellina, you wouldn’t know style if it hit you in the eye,” Dean is yelling at the TV screen about two and a half hours later. He hears the sound of jangling keys out in the hallway, and fumbles desperately for the TV remote. He tries to look innocent as the strains of the Dr. Sexy theme song replace the voices of picky, frustrated brides.

Castiel stumbles across the room and practically throws himself onto the couch, his head landing in Dean’s lap.

“Whoa,” Dean recoils at the smell of alcohol emanating from his drunken roommate.

“Nnnghh,” Cas responds. He squirms, resettling his cheek on Dean’s thigh. Dean stops breathing. “I can’t believe you watch this,” Cas complains, waving an accusing hand at Dr. Sexy.

Dean’s brain takes a few minutes to come up with the perfect wedding-dress related comeback, but Cas is sound asleep by that point and wouldn’t have heard it, anyway.

~~

It’s unreasonably early in the morning, and Dean is in his room, pulling an all-nighter trying to finish the final paper of the semester for his art history class when Cas’ muffled voice leaks through his bedroom door.

“No, listen to Bellina,” Cas gripes, “that is a hideous monstrosity!”

Dean snorts. “Bellina is a hack,” he calls back, “she doesn’t know shit about fashion!”

There is sudden silence in the living room and Dean freezes, realizing what he just said. He winces and sheepishly exits his bedroom. Castiel eyes him suspiciously from the couch, snuggled under what looks like every blanket they own, his hair sleep-mussed and adorable.

“I thought you were at the library,” Cas says. “Isn’t your art history paper due today?”

Dean shrugs. “I was working on it here.” He runs an embarrassed hand through his hair and glances at the TV, paused as the bride twirls in her gown. “So, um… you really don’t like the dress?”

Cas flushes red to the tips of his ears. “It’s awful. Completely trashy. You really like it?” His gravelly voice is uncharacteristically quiet and shy.

“I think it’s cool. Unique, you know?”

“If you want to look like a streetwalker on your wedding day,” Cas snipes sourly, wrinkling his nose. Dean throws his head back and laughs. He drops down onto the couch next to Cas and throws an arm around his blanket-covered shoulders, tugging him into an awkward one-armed hug.

“Oh god, I love you, Cas,” Dean proclaims. Castiel stiffens under his arm, and Dean curses his sleep-deprived brain, which is apparently taking a vacation from monitoring what comes out of his mouth. He chances a glance down at Cas, who is staring at him, jaw slack, eyes wide and shining with - hope? Oh.

Oh.

Dean’s heart skips a beat. He shifts his seat on the couch, so he can hold onto Cas and look him in the eyes at the same time. Cas leans in close, their noses almost touching, and Dean can feel the warm whisper of breath on his cheek.

“Castiel Novak, you are completely ridiculous,” Dean informs him. “You have awful taste in fashion, and you’re always too serious, and you never wash the dishes, and you’re a complete hypocrite for making fun of me for watching Dr. Sexy when you, apparently, spend all you free time binge-watching crappy wedding-based reality TV.”

Dean closes the last inch between them, brushing his lips gently over Castiel’s for one brief moment.

“And I am completely in love with you,” Dean whispers.

Cas lets out a tiny whimper. He wiggles his arms free of his blankets so he can grab Dean’s head and pull him in for a proper kiss. They spend long minutes exploring each other’s mouths, hands wandering, warm and sleepy and content as they melt into each other.

“I don’t know how someone so perfect can have such perfectly horrible taste in wedding dresses,” Cas says when they pause for breath.

“Well then, good thing neither of will ever have to wear one,” Dean points out. Castiel’s expression grows wicked. Dean shivers at the flash of heat that runs through his body and grins as he pulls Cas in for another kiss.

Later, they curl up under the blankets together and alternate yelling at the brides on TV and arguing with each other, punctuated with prolonged bouts of kissing and groping.

When they get married, they manage to score a Say Yes to the Tux special on TV.

 

 


End file.
